


New Tattoo

by sororexitium



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Hand Jobs, Lack of Communication, Languages and Linguistics, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sororexitium/pseuds/sororexitium
Summary: When Tony comes home with a new tattoo, Bucky's a little unsure why he's supposed to make a fuss about it. But it becomes more than apparent that he is, indeed, supposed to do just that when Tony gets morose on him. After he finds out the meaning behind it, he's more than eager to give it all the pomp and circumstance it deserves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually prompted to me originally by redshoemafia . I've done a lot of work to it since she first gave it to me. 
> 
> I'm posting it finally as a little pick-me-up, hopefully. Special shout-out to my beta, who's been going over my stuff since before the beginning of time. 
> 
> You both rock and I'd be nothing without ya!

Tony comes home from classes one afternoon a little earlier than usual.

That, in and of itself, isn’t that strange to Bucky. Tony is a brilliant young man who’s finishing up two doctorates at twenty-three and he’s easily sidetracked by bigger and better things than lectures. Often, when he goes to class, it’s only because he has to be in attendance or there’s something in the class that directly pertains to the labs Tony practically lives for.

Bucky probably wouldn’t have paused from the extra physiotherapy for his shoulder and arm. Only would have grumbled a greeting and received the kiss from Tony, and then would have moved on with their day together. This time, though, as Bucky’s doing stretches and rotations and feeling like his arm is about to burst into flame even after months of therapy and work, he notices Tony has a bandage on his arm just below the sleeve of his tee-shirt.

His eyes zero in on it even from across the room as Tony takes his several million layers off. Brows furrowing, he stops what he’s doing as a concerned wave goes through him. Tony isn’t really accident prone, by nature, and can charm his way out of just about any confrontation. It’s attention grabbing when he has any sort of injury.

“What happened to your arm, dollface?” Bucky asks as his boyfriend comes into the living room. His eyes flicker from the bandage to Tony’s handsome features, curiously.

Tony just shrugs, though, a small little smile on his face as he leans in for a quick kiss. “I got a tattoo after lunch.”

He says it like he says that he stopped and got them lunch or was commenting on the weather. Bucky should be used to it by now. He’s been with Tony for four years and this is the man who, after six months of being together with Bucky deployed five of them, said he would move Bucky from New York to Massachusetts until he graduated. And then, when that didn’t work, up and transferred to NYU to complete his masters. That sure as hell hadn’t made Daddy Dearest very happy, but fuck him. Howard is a dickhead anyway.

Yet every time Tony does something like this, Bucky is momentarily thrown for a loop.

Bucky give his boyfriend a somewhat incredulous look. “I didn’t know you were thinking about getting another tattoo, Antoshka?”

Because Tony has…or well, had two tattoos. One date along his inner bicep which is a twin to his best friend, Rhodey’s. That was the first one, which they got during Spring Break down in Cancun. He also has one on his right shoulder, a stanza filled with, as Bucky found out not too long after they started sleeping together, the opening notes to Iron Man. Apparently, it was one of the few rock and roll songs that Jarvis hated so passionately he wouldn’t even let Tony play it around him. So, naturally, Tony felt a sentimental attachment to it after his butler and friend’s death.

“I had been considering it off and on.” Tony takes a seat on the couch, giving Bucky room as he continues the exercises his physical therapist had given him.

Getting his shoulder shot through with shrapnel was really a bitch, but that’s an unfortunate possibility when you’re a soldier deployed overseas. Doesn’t matter rank or the job you hold in the squadron or how long you’ve been there. Sometimes, shit just goes to hell and there’s nothing to be done for it but hold on for as long as you can.

“So, what? You woke up this morning, got your coffee, and decided, ‘today I’m gonna get a tattoo’?”

“It was closer to lunch, but the premise is still largely the same.”

Bucky huffs a breath of laughter, shaking his head. Tony really is something else and most of it is eccentric and wild as the man himself. “Can I see it?”

There’s a nervous little flutter that sparks behind his boyfriend’s eyes, if only for a moment before it flickers out and gets replaced by warm affection. It catches Bucky’s interest but he doesn’t really get to act on it before Tony is shaking his head. “Mmm…no. Not today. I’m gonna keep the bandage on it for the full 24 hours this time. That’s what the guy said to do.”

Bucky gives him a wry look, one eyebrow hiking up a little. “Wow. You’re gonna do what someone tells you to do? Any other signs of the Apocalypse? Plagues, oceans of blood? Any news on that Antichrist guy?”

Tony rolls his eyes and moves quickly, or quicker than he used to, lightly punching Bucky’s thigh with a small smile on his face.

It makes Bucky laugh.

***

Bucky met Tony when he was twenty-six and on leave.

He and his buddies had all scattered to the wind, except for him and Steve. As usual, they stuck together and went home to New York for a week and as usual, Bucky decided they should hit up every halfway decent bar in Brooklyn.

Tony had been nineteen at the time, in an overcrowded, understaffed, easy for shit to go unnoticed dive bar. He’d already been drunk for a while, said he’d started at the hotel (that his father had booked him with a full fucking minibar) and decided to come have some fun. Well, that fun had ended up nearly being a nightmare when some guy nearly managed to lead his heavily inebriated ass out of the bar.

Bucky to this day doesn’t know the true intentions of this guy, but he’d seen some sleazy looking middle aged creep dragging out a stumbling young man and Bucky intervened as smoothly as he could. He’s always been somewhat proud to say that not only did he manage to intercept Tony before a total stranger could take him away, but he also managed to do so without getting into a fist fight. After that, he babysat a drunk, foul-mouthed, way-too-intelligent but way-too-susceptible college kid from MIT until Tony was sober enough to look at him clearly and say, “ _How the hell did I not notice how fucking hot you are?_ ”

If Bucky hadn’t been smitten before, he sure as hell was after that and he’d made a point to get Tony’s number before they parted ways.

From that point on, they’d managed to muddle together an actual somewhat steady relationship. Bucky doesn’t think either of them really bet on this one working. Sure, they were willing to give it a try. In theory, it was what they both needed, just a bit of fun but nothing that was too serious. That had changed rapidly within only a few short months despite Bucky being deployed.

They’ve been together for four years, struggled through a helluva lot, up to and including Bucky nearly having his arm blown off, and they’ve made it out the other side. Bucky honestly can’t think of anything they haven’t told each other and they’re both probably a little bit too comfortable together. He never really thought he’d be able to share a toothbrush with someone without making a face, but he’s done it with Tony before.

Such is why it’s a little odd when Tony gets all morose after the unveiling of the tattoo is done. Okay, maybe Bucky isn’t quite as enthusiastic as he could be…but he honestly doesn’t know what the hell it is. If he had to hazard a guess, it’s probably one of his boyfriend’s computer languages or some sort of code that probably detonates the Death Star. It looks like a symbol with two numbers following after it.

Bucky looks at it, brows furrowed, head tilted a little. No matter how long he stares at it, though, it’s still a large asterisk, a zero, and an eight with a line cutting them horizontally.

Tony’s staring at him, nerves having been evident since before he peeled the gauze off for. Bucky guesses it’s because this is the first tattoo he’s gotten while they’ve been together, but it looks interesting and it obviously means something to his boyfriend, so he shrugs. “It’s cool. Weird, but cool.”

Bucky watches as Tony’s face falls a little bit more, hurt clouding his expressive eyes as he quickly goes makes himself busy covering the new art with hydrating gel and a new cover of gauze. He very carefully doesn’t look at Bucky as he gets dressed for a day on campus, but Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off him. “Think it’s weird?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t understand, so it’s a bit weird to me I guess, but if you like it…” He trails off at the end with a shrug, still watching Tony as he tries not to look upset. Bucky feels like this could very quickly end in a fight or a silent war and he’s not in the mood for either. His shoulder gives a little throb, as if it senses the emotional storm brewing. “It’s your body, Antoshka. You can get whatever you want on it. I don’t have to approve.”

“I know,” Tony says quickly, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt until the bandage is almost completely covered. He looks up, meeting Bucky’s eye for a moment before he beelines over to his zip up hoodie. “Just…thought it might elicit a better reaction than that.”

He shrugs, grabbing his wallet before he comes up and seeks a quick kiss which Bucky grants without pause, still trying to think of something to make this better. Not that it really matters. As soon as Tony has his kiss, he’s muttering that he’ll pick up dinner on his way home and leaving in a blur.

Everything’s off after that.

***

It’s a very strange thing to feel like he’s done something wrong and not have the slightest clue what it might be. Tony, for all that he pouts and broods like a moody child, doesn’t really hide what’s upset him. Backhanded comments, passive aggressive text messages where his punctuation goes from nonexistent to English grammar scholar, and, Bucky’s favorite, carefully planned accidents that emphasize what Bucky has done wrong. He makes it known that he’s been hurt in some way.

This time, though, Bucky’s been in the doghouse for two weeks and he hasn’t the slightest idea what the hell he did. He’s gone through the list of things that could have set OFF this unintentional cold war, from having to miss one of their lunch dates because of a meeting, all the way to calling Howard a fuckstick because that for some reason upsets his boyfriend even though they both know it’s true. The only thing he can think of is that damn tattoo.

He swears it’s taunting him. Worse, every time he asks Tony, Tony looks away like he’s embarrassed and tells him not to worry about it, or that it’s nothing.

“What’s the tattoo of? A dick?” Natasha asks curiously as she stirs cream into her tea with elegance and sophistication that doesn’t match her words. She’d agreed to meet him for brunch probably only because he was taking her to her favorite place to get Cuban sandwiches and had offered to pay. She’s very advantageous that way, no matter how fond she is of someone.

Bucky shakes his head. “No. It’s some sort of code or something. I don’t know. I speak six languages but computer isn’t one of them.”

He’s beginning to think that maybe it should be. He’s sure that he could convince Tony to tell him whatever code is inked onto his arm. He’s got a head for languages once he makes sense of the basics, the rules and exceptions. Computer gibberish can’t be that bad.

Nat hums, green eyes looking around them. They’re eating outside today, seeing as it’s one of the nicer spring days in New York City. It makes it easy for Natasha to people-watch like the profiler she is. She and Barton are no fun to go to a party with. “Maybe he’s just upset that you didn’t ‘oo’ and ‘ah’ over it as much as he wanted you to. You are dating someone younger than you. Younger people tend to be more emotional.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says while not being very sorry at all, really. “You are like five minutes older than Tony and haven’t _all_ of your boyfriends, up to and including your husband, been at least five to fifteen years older than you?”

“Women mature faster than men,” she responds, a playful edge to her smirk even when he gives her his most impressive blank stare. “Relax. I’m only kidding, Yasha. You and Steve, I swear. Can’t take a joke to save your life. Must be a Brooklyn thing.”

She poorly mimics the accent he and Steve have never fully shaken. It’s sad, but he thinks she has a better neutral American accent than he does and she’s from Russia.

He shakes his head, snarking back lightly, “I think it’s a ‘you’ thing.”

Natasha smiles, slow and unhurried as the waiter brings out their lunches. She gets far too much enjoyment out of their banter. It’s almost as bad as hanging out with Wilson.

When she’s properly stacked her sandwich together—because apparently there is a proper and improper way—she asks without the playfulness, apparently getting down to business now that she’s in the second half of her lunch hour. “Do you have a picture or something? I’m pretty good with computers.”

“No,” Bucky says around a bight of his own lunch and with no regard to manners. “Let me see if I can get him to take one.”

His conversation over text messaging goes like this:

{Babe, send me a pic of your tat?}

{No. Why?}

{Nat wants to see it.}

{Oh. Fuck no, but thanks.}

Bucky rolls his eyes before he can stop himself, putting his phone down with maybe a little bit more force than he should, but he kind of can’t help it. Punctuation. It’s always the damn punctuation. When he looks up, Nat has a look on her face like she knows exactly what happened, and she probably does. She’s been friends with him longer than he’s been dating Tony.

“Maybe you could draw it for me?” she offers.

He sighs, worried that he’ll mess up his rendition, but tries nonetheless. He starts a few times, but scribbles out the first three before he thinks he gets it right, the weird looking asterisk sign, the zero and the eight, all with a line drawn horizontally as if cutting them in half. He passes his napkin over to Natasha, who barely even glances at it before she’s looking up at him from beneath her brows.

“Really? You don’t recognize this?” she deadpans.

Bucky leans over, looking at it upside down like that will make more sense of the symbols. He shrugs with his mouth, shaking his head. “No…why? Should I?”

Natasha takes a deep breath and shakes her head, taking the pen that Bucky had been using. “Okay. So, let’s take the line out of the middle. And then separate this symbol, so it’s ‘ja’ and ‘ka’ Turn the eight into ‘ve’…”

‘Яков’…It fucking says ‘Яков’.

It’s his own fucking name in Russian, one of the very first languages he learned. He’s such a dumbass.

He pulls his phone back to him with haste.

{When are you getting home?}

{Lab ends in 20.}

He has to wait longer than he did with the first conversation, but when he gets his response he practically inhales his food. He has so much to make up for.

“Yeah, y’do,” Nat agrees with his half muffled words. “Seriously. He literally wrote your name on himself. It’s like gift wrapping himself just for you and you said… ‘Cool. Weird, but cool.’ You have so much groveling to do.”

“Shaddup!”

***

Bucky beats Tony home by three minutes. He’s barely out of his jacket and boots when he hears the locks of the door turning again after he’d just locked them. He kicks his boot the rest of the way off, waiting until Tony’s inside and the door is locked before pouncing on him.

Taking the bag off his shoulder, he lets the mostly empty thing drop on the ground so he can easily push Tony’s jacket off his shoulders. It gives him access to Tony’s bare arms, only the short sleeve of his band tee to give any sort of hindrance. There it is. His name. It’s so fucking obvious now and he kicks himself again for not seeing it.

He strokes his thumb around it, knowing it isn’t _entirely_ healed. It could probably handle being touched and kissed and…god damn, he wants to. He diverts the urge into kissing Tony, crowding him against the door and pushing into his space as he licks his way into Tony’s mouth like he’s trying to make up for his own stupidity. In a way he is, but it’s really more the fact that seeing the tattoo now and understanding what it is has him so impossibly turned on, it’s unreal.

One hand sneaking under Tony’s shirt, he traces smooth, warm skin, thumb tracing over the rise and fall of bones and hidden muscles. He kisses his lover with everything he has, mapping his mouth and drinking him in like drowning man and Tony responds to him without thought for the longest time. His arms wrap around Bucky’s shoulders and their lips and tongues move together with ease that comes from years of practice and ease.

Unfortunately, though, Tony’s mind must wake up just a little because he wiggles a little in his grasp, concern coloring the edges of the soft sounds he makes as he catalogues the change in demeanor. Not to say that Bucky doesn’t get handsy, or just kind of grope him at every chance he gets. He’s a warm blooded human with an active sexual appetite who has a beautiful boyfriend. He touches a lot. Probably not like this though. There’s a hungry edge to his touch and kiss the way there hasn’t been in a while.

Tony pulls back from the kiss after a moment, lips already looking kiss bruised and swollen. Bucky just wants to lean in all over again, but he’s being given a rather confused and somewhat wary look.

“Um…Buck…?”

Bucky looks into his confused brown eyes, shaking his head. He smiles apologetically, leaning their heads together as he begins walking them back towards their room. He doesn’t want to try wall sex again after the dent they made last time. “I didn’t realize. Doll, you’re gonna have to forgive your boyfriend for not always being the brightest crayon in the box. Okay?”

Tony shakes his head, confusion not ebbing, though Bucky notes he doesn’t stop their trajectory. Instead, it seems to be amplifying. “Okay…? Babe, what brought this on?”

“This!” He squeezes Tony’s arm gently, fingers just below the ink. “I thought it was some sort of computer code or something. I just…I looked at it and saw an asterisk and two numbers. Nat had to literally spell it out for me. Okay? I’m not always as smart as I tell myself.”

“So, you’re saying…you didn’t know that I put your name…on my body?” he says it all very slowly as if he’s trying to come to terms with it himself. His eyes still bore into Bucky’s, uncertain as they had been since Bucky dismissed the tattoo with a small shrug. Uncertain as they hadn’t been since about a year and a half ago after their last major knockdown, drag-out argument.

Tony’s always had trouble with his self-worth. They’ve both tussled with their confidence, but Tony has had to deal with his dickweed of a father all his life so it’s a little bit more deep-seated. Bucky’s always wanted to beat that bastard’s face in for it.

He nods slowly, grimacing a little. “Yeah, Tony. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m also saying that this is not weird at all and is so much more than cool. Now, let me show you just how much I really like it.”

Bucky flashes a smile at his love, giving in to the desire to claim his lips once more. He makes himself stop holding onto Tony’s arm as if the tattoo might dissolve if he does. It’s permanent. Proof that Tony is all his and will be for as long as Bucky can manage not to fuck it all up. So, he drops his hands down to Tony’s ass, his boyfriend taking the hint for what it is and wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist as he’s picked up.

Now that Bucky has explained what’s going on with him as well as why he didn’t react as positively as he could have about the tattoo, Tony is very on board with the turn their afternoon has taken. He cups Bucky’s face, brown eyes sparkling with open relief. He runs his thumb along Bucky’s lower lip, a saucy smile on his face when he nibbles on the skin. As soon as they’re safely in their room, Tony closes the distance between them with just as much hunger, passion sparking like a wildfire between them as Tony takes his turn mapping his mouth, teasing his tongue over Bucky’s.

Heat goes through him instantly, arousal surging through the passion and adoration. He wants to take this man apart, show him just how much he loves the gesture behind the tattoo, because it isn’t just seeing his name on Tony’s skin. No, it’s so much more. Tony might as well have just signed them up for the long haul, claimed Bucky as his for all time. His name adorns his skin. He belongs to Tony now more than he ever did before.

It’s so unbelievably hot.

Then Tony goes and rolls his hips, the growing line of his cock rubbing against Bucky’s stomach. His reaction is instant, his own dick hardening further inside his jeans. It’s all he can do not to throw him on the bed and pounce, to rip his clothes to shreds until he can touch and taste all of that beautiful skin. He can feel higher thought slipping away, his focus narrowing on the man in his arms, the heat of his body, the taste of coffee on his tongue, and the sounds he makes, everything about Tony.  

Tony unwraps his legs from around him, taking a step back from him and dragging his addictive lips away with him. Bucky follows without putting any conscious effort into it, hands already stripping out of his shirts. His shoulder still gives a little bit of a twinge when he lifts his arm over his head, but nowhere near as much as it used to. When he drops them both to the ground, Tony is sliding his own shirt over his arms, letting it fall carelessly, exposing his chest and the thin, dark scar that trails down his sternum from his surgery years ago.

There’s a race to get out of their jeans, which Bucky wins, seeing as he’d had the time to get out of his shoes, and then bombards his love. As Bucky is stepping out of his puddle of denim, Tony’s only just managed to kick his shoes off and shove his pants down his slender hips.

It makes Bucky smile, predatory, and his cock gives a very interested jerk, already hard just from the way Tony had been grinding against him. He takes the few steps between them, grabbing Tony around the waist and tossing him onto the bed, jeans still tangled around his knees. That’s perfectly fine with him, means he gets to be the one who finishes undressing Tony and he really enjoys undressing Tony. It may be one of his favorite pastimes.

He catches Tony’s eyes as he does, noting that he’s smiling too, lower lip caught between his teeth. No more doubt or embarrassment, which is as it fucking should be. Bucky hates to see any sort of doubt written on Tony’s face, especially when it’s Bucky who put it there. He worked hard to build Tony up he doesn’t want to be the reason it goes away even for a moment.

Bucky pulls his boyfriend’s second leg free of his pants, kissing the inside of his knee and sucking a mark into his inner thigh as he makes a show of dropping the jeans off to the side. Then he pushes him up the bed, waiting for and luxuriating in the peel of laughter it earns him.

“Dork,” Tony breathes fondly as Bucky follows after him, cock twitching again at the way Tony’s legs automatically fall open, welcoming him.

It makes Bucky smile against his skin, nipping a little mark on his ribs. “Your dork,” he breathes as he lands a kiss against his clavicle, tongue dipping into the hollow there before he moves across his chest.

Tony’s hands land on his ass, pulling him in close so they can grind together again, letting out an appreciative sigh. “Damn right, you are.”

They’re going to need supplies soon. Bucky wants to be inside his lover, show him just how much he belongs to him too. He’s got every plan on staying in bed with him until hunger forces them to order dinner and even then he may just try to push his luck.

They rut together, skin and precome dragging together slow and needy while Bucky kisses, licks, and sucks his way across his chest. Bucky draws his tongue over one, dusty brown nipple before trailing his lips along his scar until he catches sight of his name again. Thumb tracing the skin lightly, Bucky leans to the side to press a messy kiss to the ink, then surges up to meet Tony’s lips in another possessive kiss.

“That tattoo is gonna turn me on until the end of time,” he mutters, feeling breathless and light headed. He’s not, but it’s the sensation he gets as he goes back to kissing his lover with heated abandon. He feels the need to take Tony out of his mind, to drive away all other thought, until it’s just him and his name rattling around in that brilliant head of his.

Tony nips his lower lip, giving a little tug as his hands trail up Bucky’s back and undoubtedly leaving little marks of his own, more little signs of his possessiveness.  “Then my evil plan worked…”

Bucky chuckles, glancing up at their head board and reaching easily for the little drawer that holds their supplies. “Yeah, it did. Sorry it took so long for it to come into fruition…but I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes.”

“Well, I’d say I’d spell it out for you, but…” Tony shimmies a little bit as Bucky sits up, reaching for one of their pillows to shove under his hips. He’s biting his lower lip. There’s anticipation in his deep brown eyes. The look goes straight to Bucky’s cock and Tony seems to know that if his smile is anything to go by. “I kind of already did.”

That remark makes Bucky shake his head, a small smile on his face as he tries come up with some sort of smart remark for his boyfriend. In the end, he decides to cheat. He doesn’t mind playing dirty at all. In fact, he tends to thrive in it.

He takes the lube in hand, catching the way Tony licks his lips, still smiling up at him with far more emotion than Bucky ever would have thought someone could look at him with. Bucky sends a wink back to him as he drops his hand, leaving a messy trail from the base of his love’s cock below his balls to tease against his hole and then back up again. It’s always a turn on to watch Tony’s dark eyes burn with want and arousal and it makes Bucky grin even wider to see it now.

Taking Tony in hand, he slowly strokes him with drawn out motions. The lube guides the way and warms up, letting Bucky’s hand slide easily while adding to Tony’s pleasure. Tony enjoys the slick sensation almost as much as he enjoys a blowjob, but the self-heating lube really adds something, or so Bucky has been told by his blissed out love more than once. He plays with him just like that, hand slick and firm around Tony’s cock, until he gets the first needy little ‘fuck’ and his hips push into Bucky’s fist.

He never would have figured it when he first met Tony, and it was kind of jarring the first few times they went to bed together, but Tony is quiet. It takes effort to get him to make any sound at all, and if something doesn’t work for him, he’s silent as the grave. No showboating or stroking egos. Bucky has always loved the challenge in that.

He increases his pace, then. Just enough that Tony’s breath does this wonderful little hitch and he loses control of whether or not his hips move. He always does the exact same thing when Bucky goes down on him or rides him, searching for more without really searching for release. His eyelids droop, hands searching for connection and gripping hard at Bucky’s free wrist.

Bucky can get Tony off just like this, and the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea. He does, after all, want to keep Tony in bed for the rest of the day, and what better way to ensure that happens than to keep him too blissed out too start thinking of things outside their room?

Grinning, he pulls his hand away from Tony’s cock to pull him flush, his own cock slipping between Tony’s slick cheeks and nestling just right against his balls. Tony looks at his with shock and desire. He’s always had a little bit of a kink for being man-handled and Bucky’s all too willing to fulfill his wants.

He trails his hands up his lover’s side while Tony adjusts just so. He leaves a trail of slick and precome along his skin as they both moan, the sensation of his cock sliding between his cheeks enough to have them both shivering. When Tony makes it a point to rock against him, Bucky groans and wraps his hand around Tony’s cock again, watching as his eyes flutter.

Bucky lets Tony work against him at his own pace, only adding the twist of his wrist and the swipe of his thumb over his slip. He collects all the pretty little noises his love makes, echoing them with his own panting moans as Tony completely stops holding on to the tenuous control he’d had. This close to falling over the edge, his head falls further into the pillow, moans amplifying marginally in their apartment as own hands trail over his heated skin.

This close to falling over the edge, Tony is a sight to see. His eyes fall closed and his lips move around broken vowels that will never amount to anything but mean so much to Bucky. He arches into his own touch and his hips stutter against Bucky’s cock and into his fist, before he can’t hold on anymore.

Tony comes with a quiet curse, his entire body taut as he spills across his belly and Bucky’s hand, cock jerking in his palm.

Bucky smiles, milking him for all he’s got before smearing it across Tony’s olive skin. Tony shivers, eyes gazing up at him dazedly with a sex-drunk smile that he just has to kiss.

He eases his way over him, Tony’s legs locking around his hips loosely and his hands reach up to play in his hair, relaxed and dreamy. Bucky chuckles as their lips meet, his lover just a split second behind on coordination, but he’ll never complain about that. Really, it just makes it easier to slide his tongue past Tony’s lips and stake his claim all over again, mapping and teasing until Tony’s fingers tighten in his hair and on his shoulder, pulling him away.

“That a rocket in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Bucky breathes out laughter, rocking against his younger lover who always seems ready to go no matter what. “I don’t have any pockets,” he mumbles along Tony’s chin where the somewhat new, carefully trimmed goatee scrapes against his lips. He hadn’t thought he’d like his fresh faced lover with any facial hair…but he has to admit, it adds a certain something to Tony that Bucky can’t describe.

“Oh good. That would have been awkward. Especially considering what I was hoping you’d do to me with it,” he turns his head a little, a lustful glint in his eyes as he grins and presses the lube into Bucky’s hand again. “We’ll save the object insertion until next week…when you’re too old to get it up.”

Bucky squawks indignantly, slapping Tony’s ass and trying not to smile when Tony laughs so hard at his own joke. Admittedly, it’s a joke they’ve both used several times, but the point stands. “I’ll show you who’s old, ya jerk.”

With that, he pushes away from his love, sitting back on his knees while Tony’s legs fall wide again. They have to pause for a moment to readjust Tony’s pillow, but it just gives Bucky an excuse to grope him a little and gets him a smack to his good shoulder for his efforts. Tony will never admit it, but he’s pretty ticklish on his sides and Bucky isn’t above taking advantage.

He pours lube over his fingers, making a bit of a mess over the sheets and his own skin, but he can hardly give a damn, especially after the mess he’s made of Tony. When they’re liberally coated, he drops them down, teasing over his balls just for the oversensitive wiggle it earns him, before he moves lower, brushing over Tony’s entrance. That gets Tony to push back, inviting and open, so Bucky teases, giving him just a little of what he wants by pressing against the furled muscle but not all the way.

Just as he’s sure Tony’s going to curse his name and take over, Bucky presses one finger inside him. It trips up whatever Tony was going to say and makes his brows furrow in concentration, licking his lower lip. A soft sound rumbles in his throat, his eyes closing for a moment as Bucky coerces his body to relax and take him in.

Tony is responsive and eager, a little impatient sometimes. He spreads his legs a little wider, tilts his hips a little more. His body knows just what to do, taking him in with ease. As soon as he knows Tony can take it, he works in a second finger, opening him at his own pace, which Bucky is honestly so proud of considering how hard he is. He just takes his time, crooking his fingers now and then to brush against his love’s sweet spot.

Bucky pets and kisses his thighs and knees, unable to really keep away, especially when he manages to pull out those quiet noises with more frequency. Tony’s already getting turned on again, his youth helping him along as Bucky presses against his prostate. It’s gratifying to watch his cock twitch back to life as he adds a third finger beside the first two.

When he’s properly open, Tony reaches for the condom that had dropped on the bed earlier, ripping the packet open for him. Bucky pulls away his fingers, scooting closer to his boyfriend so he can roll it over his cock. There’s a few moments where they get caught up in kissing again, Bucky pushing into the circle on Tony’s fist, but he pulls away and pushes his lover back onto the bed with a lusty smile.

Bucky pulls him closer, guiding his cock until he can sink into his hot body with a moan that Tony echoes. He grips his hips, taking a second just to marvel in the sensation of being connected like this. With his lover laid out like this, open and taking him in, that damn tattoo so visible on his arm, he’s like a wet dream come true. It’s too good like this to stay still for long, though, and Tony apparently agrees because he rolls his hips, lip caught between his teeth.

With only a moment more to steady his nerves and push away the urgency with which his body is insisting he needs to fuck Tony, he creates their rhythm. It’s deep and heady, but unhurried. Tony meets him easily in a way that has Bucky groaning and cursing, always the more vocal of the two until one of them shifts just so.

That gets a heartfelt curse of gratitude from Tony and the demanding plea, “Like that…fuck, do that again. Please…”

Tony’s hands run over his own body, gripping the pillow behind his head and he pants. He’s flushed from the roots of his hair down his chest, a sheen of sweat on his olive skin. His cock is fully hard again after just a few moments of attention against his spot, and he makes all those sweet noises that Bucky treasures and thinks about at the most inconvenient time.

Cursing, he pauses just long enough to Tony’s leg over his arm and lean over him, holding him wide open for him to continue driving into his lover with quick, deep thrusts. He tries to angle just so that he brushes over his sweet spot with every pass and he knows he must be doing a fantastic job of it. Tony presses his head back into the pillows, all of that lovely throat on display and Bucky is powerless to keep from leaving marks along that delicate skin.

Tony’s hands grip his shoulder and neck, his other leg draping over his ass and pulling him impossibly closer with each pass. Bucky manages to drag more sounds from him, each one going right through him, settling low in his belly where he can already feel his orgasm burning. He sucks a mark onto Tony’s collar bone, biting down and releasing Tony’s leg, so he can wrap his hand around his weeping cock.

“Oh, fucking hell…” Tony’s voice is strained, a sure sign that he’s close too. His hips thrust up into Bucky’s touch, another moan spilling over his lips. Bucky feels his fingers curl against his skin, his body tensing under his touch until he comes undone with a small cry, spilling over his belly again.

Bucky can’t hold on much past that, a few more moments before he’s cursing loudly and coming hard. It’s sweet bliss and slams into him like a freight train, making his body tingle with pleasure. It’s worth all the waiting he did and more.

He just barely has the wherewithal to ease out of his love, tying off the condom and dropping it in the trash beside their bed. Flopping onto his side, he curls up close to Tony as his hand wraps around his arm again, just under his tattoo. His shoulder twinges a little, but it’s a dull pain and simple to ignore, especially since he has Tony so close to him, mellow as a sleepy kitten.  

They’re both quiet for the next few minutes, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow. It’s only after a few moments that Bucky even realizes he’s grinning ear to ear, face pressed against Tony’s shoulder. He knows it has nothing to do with the tattoo either. It’s just Tony, his beautiful, brilliant boyfriend who’s stuck with him for four years, and if the tattoo is anything to go by, plans to stick with him for the foreseeable future.

“I love you,” he says, even though Tony looks like he’s getting ready for a power nap. He should probably make them get up for a shower, but he feels lazy in afterglow and contentedness. So, to make up for it, he runs his fingers through Tony’s hair and kisses his cheek.

“I’ll love you a million times more if you go grab a wash cloth,” Tony slurs back with his eyes still closed and his lips curling at the corner.

God, he loves this little punk so much.

***

It takes a few weeks before he figures it all out. He tries to come up with a few designs of his own, different little configurations. Eventually, he has to admit his defeat. He’s good at languages, but he’s complete shit at art and coming up with anything unique the way Tony had. He enlists the help of Steve and Natasha, who come up with something within a single afternoon.

It’s almost unfair, but Bucky has to admit the results make him smile.

Just a week after he has the design, he makes his appointment, something during one of the few classes he knows Tony will actually attend and even pay attention through. It’s early enough they leave around the same time. It’s an occurrence that happens often enough that Tony doesn’t questions it. He just kisses him on his way out and says he might be home late because he’s got a study group or something like that.

Bucky tries to pay attention to what Tony does each day, but he feels like his boyfriend switches his schedule around just to mess with him.

The next few hours after that pass fairly quickly. The only part that seems to drag is actually waiting to see the tattoo artist and get everything set up. Once the needles are going, he kind of zones out the familiar pain of his fifth tattoo. He only checks back in every once in a while to make sure the results are what he’s looking for, which they always are, but Bucky’s a bit of a control freak.

Once it’s done and bandaged and he’s run the errands he’d already had planned for the day, he heads back to the apartment to start on dinner. It’s something easy that he can forget about until Tony gets home since his boyfriend tends to forget about the concept of time when he’s at study groups with all of his equally brilliant peers. It lets him get some work done and he doesn’t have to worry about the tattoo or the bandage by keeping it near heat too long.

It’s around eight in the evening when Tony’s key slides into the lock, calling out a cheery, “Honey, I’m home!”

“Kitchen,” Bucky calls back, leaning back in the chair he’d pulled out so he could reread his translations.

Tony follows his voice and the smell of stew coming from the pot, going over to the stove before he even swings by for a kiss. “I thought it was my turn to cook?”

“It’s eight, doll. I wanted to eat before ten.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only,” Tony pauses to look at his phone, cheeks flushing a little. “Oh, so it is eight. I thought it was around six. Makes sense why Jan was getting so antsy.”

Tony sends Bucky a small apologetic smile even though Bucky honestly doesn’t mind. He knows how Tony gets over science and engineering and trusts him to be where he says he is. As long as he doesn’t have to go fish his boyfriend out of the campus lab at midnight, Bucky’s happy that his boyfriend is happy.

He tilts his head back when Tony comes over to kiss him, murmuring his thanks and a promise that he’ll cook on Saturday. It’s good enough for Bucky and he pulls Tony into his lap, smirking when his love settles with ease. “Don’t worry about it, Tony. I like cooking for you. My smart college fella needs good, nutritious meals.”

Bucky smirks when Tony gives him a skeptical look, patting his hip. “You know you adore me,” he grins, raising his hand to brush through Tony’s wind swept hair. The action displays his new bandage blatantly, and he can see the second Tony catches sight of it. That curiosity is like an actual light inside him.

“What’s this?”

Tony’s hands wrap around his palm, and he fingers the edges of the tape while his eyes turn to Bucky in silent question.

He smiles, nodding his head when Tony pulls delicately at a corner. “See for yourself.”

With the permission, Tony grins widely and unwraps Bucky’s new ink like a Christmas or birthday present. When the design is uncovered, he can see that it takes a moment, but unlike Bucky, his eyes light up after only a moment.

The letters are arranged in a circle and designed so that the first ‘A’ and the last are the same. But as Tony had tattooed Яков to his arm, Bucky had tattoed Антошка to his wrist with a set of lines in the center of the circle.

“Antoshka…” Tony breathes with a silly little smile, glancing up at Bucky. He bites his lower lip, looking back the ink and running his thumb through the air over it. It’s obvious that he loves it, but Bucky is still not surprised when the little shit straightens up and sasses, “Cool. Weird, but cool.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and gives him a shove. “Get outta here, ya brat. Go get some dinner.”

The sound of laughter fills the apartment, and Bucky’s heart, with warmth.


End file.
